


A Quiet World

by AQuietThinker



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Parsley Soda, Rare Pairing, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Spyglass - Freeform, The Caligari Carnival (Mentioned), V.F.D, friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQuietThinker/pseuds/AQuietThinker
Summary: “When we drag you by the ankles, where our mark is to be made,You’ll soon be doing noble work, although you won’t be paid.When we drive away in secret, you’ll be a volunteer,So don’t scream where we take you, the world is quiet here.”That was one of the many oaths she had taken, one of the many virtues she carried since young. A dangerous mission wouldn’t change anything.She would always volunteer.





	1. A Warning, A Message

In this world, you can find yourself discussing rather odd topics in certain days. From a debate of what is better; Limes or lemons, to questions on the individual psychology of each and every human. 

And sometimes we discuss frightening and troublesome animals that might be nearby, and this topic always leads to much disagreement over which part of a frightening and troublesome beast is the most frightening and troublesome. Some say the teeth of the beast, because teeth are used for eating children, and often their parents, and gnawing on their bones. Some say the claws of the beast, because claws are used for ripping things to shreds. And some say the hair of the beast, because hair can make allergic people sneeze. But I always insist that the most frightening part of any beast is its belly, for the simple reason that if you are seeing the belly of the beast it means you have already seen the teeth of the beast and the claws of the of the beast and even the hair of the beast, and now you are trapped and there is probably no hope for you.

In this chapter of the lives of certain volunteers, and personal friends of mine, some of them might encounter a situation in which they find themselves trapped in the belly of the beast. So I would advise you to turn away from the futuristic device in which you are reading this, and go find something more interesting, less traumatic, and maybe even healthier to do. 

Since you are still here I will presume my tale, knowing the warning has already been given.

Juliane Snicket, a brave, clever young woman, is the main character in our story. I would also like to mention that my adoptive sister had an unstable and miserable- using the word “miserable” to describe great distress and trauma- childhood.  
The reader will probably notice this during the various events that happened throughout her life.

And, my dear Jules, if you are reading this, I’d like to write my last thoughts for you;

I love you. I always will.

I miss you. Simply as that. 

I regret my actions on that melancholic Tuesday. Do forgive me 

As a last warning, look away, for even if few moments of happiness appear in the course of life, those who risk their own lives for others in a fire, usually end up burning. 

-Lemony Snicket


	2. A Goodbye for the Librarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with hunderdes of books, Librarians can be lonely without good company.

As always, The Hotel Deumoement’s lobby was a busy place, filled with travelers and guest of all nature. Archaeologists with sand on their boots, extremely ordinary families with nothing extraordinary to tell, coping group patients on a trip, and a certain exhausted chemistry teacher, who had fallen into a deep slumber on a couch.

The crowd unknowingly hid a certain woman from public eye, making it easy to pass without suspicion. 

The young volunteer hid her chocolate curls under a French cap, wide green eyes observing the guests.

The trench coat and skirt safely concealed a certain tattoo on her ankle as she walked towards the front desk, eyeing both identical managers.

One of them looked up, and Ernest gave her a mischievous smirk, or a warm smile, given by Frank.

“Ms. Snicket. Always in a strange hour.” The man checked his clock. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it. Remember to check room 399, Frank. Good day to you, Ms Snicket.”  
Ernest, now recognised with his proper name, walked away quickly, making his way to the sleeping teacher.

“Never one for name tags, Frank?” The woman teased, but received a friendly handshake from the manager, now standing next to her. 

“It is always wonderful to see you, Juliane.”

The young woman smiled, and arched an eyebrow.

“Is Dewey around? I need to speak to him.”

“Oh, you know were he is. The shyest triplet.”

The manager handed her an odd shaped key. Before setting out towards the elevator,   
the woman turned around.

“Has Kit shown up?”

“I am sorry to say she has not entered the hotel in a while. Dewey got slightly   
disappointed.”

“I can imagine. Always a pleasure, Frank.”

He made a small curtesy. 

“I’ll be seeing you around, Juliane.”

The elevator was not far away, but weaving through people was a tedious task. Fortunately, the elegant box was empty by the time she was inside.

Entering the correct numbers, the empty spot that should have corresponded to the emergency button was replaced by a tiny keyhole, in the shape of the tattoo on her ankle. 

Once turning the key, the elevator descended various levels, finally stopping to show a slightly disorganised study.   
“He must be organising the section on odd metals and fruits.” She told herself, noticing a worn book on the desk. Stepping behind it, she finally opened the hidden door, to reveal one of the most intriguing places she had encountered.

The library was always a magical place, with tall oak bookcases, colorful rugs and paintings. Over the years, volunteers had brought their treasures and discovery’s for safekeeping in this place, and Dewey Deumoment had made sure the whole place had a welcoming tune to it. 

It was not difficult to find the section in which the triplet was working. A tall ladder was holding the man into the air, placing the remainder of books.

“You forgot one!” She reminded loudly, swinging the book into the air, found beforehand on his desk, and the man smiled as he catches it. Once safely down the ladder, after a warm hug, they engaged a conversation. 

“It is truly lovely to finally see a familiar face.”

“Frank told me you had been busy.” Jules mentioned, as they both walked to a small terrace installed just for the library, giving a view of the chalky cliff and sea.

“Yes, a whole bookcase fell down a couple of weeks ago. I had to reorganise everything again, and fix a couple of torn pages.” 

“You’ve always done a great job at that.”  
Dewey smirked at the complement, and busied himself in serving tea.

“I’m afraid I have no sugar.”

“No worries. I always preferred honey in my tea. 

“Anyways, What are you doing here?”

“I always have a motive to be here, don’t I?” Jules lamented, “One day, I swear, I will come down here just to read and spend quality time.”

“One day, my friend. But before you explain,” Dewey said, hopeful, “Have… have you heard anything of your sister?”

Jules gave him a rather sad smile.

“I haven’t, sorry. But surely she is fine.”

“Oh. Alright.” Dewey looked rather disappointed for a second, but changed his expression quickly.

“You were gonna tell me?”

“Right! I… I came here to say goodbye.”

“What? What do you mean?” He asked, rather alarmed.

“It’s okay, I’m not leaving or anything like that. It’s just a misión in East Europe. It will take a long time, but I volunteered so...,”

“Can you tell me about it, or is it secrecy?”

“Here I can, but no word comes out of the library.”

“I keep my promises.”

She took a sip of tea before continuing.

“It was an odd request. The assigment consist on going as an undercover secretary to a specific office. Certain people are suspected to know the location of this library, Also, retrieving the the cricket pamphlet is part of it.”

Dewey gazed at her in surprise.

“How odd. But it seems like a very important mission. How many other know about it?”

“Gustav, my brother and Beatrice only.” She replied.  
“Very little, I see.”

“Its important to keep it quiet thought.” Added Jules. “There could be a spy anywhere.”

“Fair point. Reminds me of a certain someone.”

“Ernest?”

Dewey nodded severely. “I am afraid that he might be questioning his virtues.”

“I’m sure that you three will figure it out.”

A comfortable silenceruled as they finished the tea.

“It isn’t a goodbye, just a ‘see you later’” she finished. “I can’t comunícate, too risky.”

“You’ll be alright. And, here.”

The librarian handed her a small leather book.

“Mobidick?”

Dewey smirked.

“Always carry a book with you.”

With a final embrace, Jules made her way to the elevator and into the lobby. 

Thanking Frank, or Ernest, she left as unnoticed as she arrived, mounting a yellow taxi cab. 

“How’s the librarian?” Jaques inquired, as he drove fairly through the city.

“Longing for Kit.”

The driver laughed.

“Naturally. Kit can be reckless. You can be stubborn. Lemony can be-“

“Was oblivious. Was.” She emphasised.

“Jules…”

“He is dead, Jaques. Dead.” Ended Jules coldly.

The rest of the trip was silent, and but the time they had arrived at the train station, the Snicket had changed into a black wig and huge sunglasses.

“He loved you.” Jaques whispered, and he got out of the car.

“If he loved me,” she intercepted, “He would have sent something. A message, a   
goodbye.”

Even with the cold conversation, the siblings embraced.

“Take care, Jules.”

“Goodbye Jaques.”

With one final look at the man, she boarded the train, not looking back.

With a book on her lap and spyglass in pocket, the journey began. 

Chapter one, Mobidick. A fresh book.

After all, well read people can nearly always be trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter!  
> I like playing around with the secrets and details of ASOUE  
> Please comment!  
> ;)


	3. Good, Bad, and Nasty Evil Miscreants

The best way to understand a person’s true manners is to observe how they treat a   
waiter. 

Some are kind and help clean themselves up when the young man or woman has spilled Carbonara pasta on top of them. 

Others simply treat the waitress or waiter as an inferior being, not caring or paying attention, missing out on the action of a perfectly placed napkin. 

Nasty, evil miscreants swear and curse at these helpful young men and women when they forget to add peppermints to their receipt, or put enough salt in the butter.

Other ways to understand how certain people are is to observe their shoes. Shoes can tell the whole life story of someone. 

I personally once met a Sociologist that came from Egypt after having a breakup with his girlfriend, when the poor young lady found out he was making out with a bloke in his trip to Brazil. All of this I noticed from the Brazilian bubble gum with sand on it. 

Another old lady, with boots the acrid colour of orange, had been arguing with her husband's grave on adding one more cat to the family, after having a dream on alien invasions. Being attentive and observant can help you in certain difficult or mysterious situations;

Be attentive and observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive and observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive you observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive and observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive may observant, tends to be handy.   
Be attentive and observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive and observant, it see to be handy.   
Be attentive and observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive and strange, it tends to be handy.   
Be patterns and observant, it tends to be handy.   
Be attentive and observant, it tends to be handy. 

Fortunately, my sister was a very attentive and observant person helping her in her mission she had so loyaly volunteered for. Her story, unfortunately, is not as successful as these two characteristics can make a person be. 

So I implore; look away. Go read something pleasant, something that makes you feel happy and impulse you to be nice to waitresses and waiters when they spill Carbonara sauce on you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Lemony’s introductions, and I hope you all got the message.   
> ;)


	4. The Mysterious Individual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t the best chapter, but please be patient. The story is supposed to more of a Hurt/Comfort work. I’m still coming up with part of the plot.  
> Enjoy!  
> ;)

The train stopped abruptly stopped, book on chapter three, the Spouter-Inn. People unloaded the train with heavy baggage, while the volunteer just took her small suitcase. 

The station consisted of a waiting bench and a strangely position coffee shop, with two or three people lounging and sipping drinks. She entered the place, setting her light luggage on the ground. The tiny table held a tulip, and a neatly placed napkin.

“Good Afternoon, I’m Larry, your waiter, and I will be in your service today.”

The voice made her look up and smile at the skinny man.

“I think I will have some tea today, and a sandwich. To go, please.”

Larry took the order.

“Coming right up Ms. Snicket. One last question,” he replied, “Will you be traveling tonight?”

“Oh yes, there’s places to go, people to meet.”

He nodded and stepped to the kitchens, his steps echoing. 

Jules took out the book she had carried all the way, and touched its leather bound spine. The object was handmade, she noted, and old but in perfect condition. She opened it to the very last page, finding Dewey’s neat handwriting in ink.

The deepest secrets may lay underneath the sea.

She caressed the letter, picturing him writing this in the middle of night. Her thoughts wandered off to the other volunteers, those on mission, those far away, and those presumed dead. Just like Lemony.

“Here you go.” Larry placed a wrapped package and drink on the table.

“Thank you, Larry. How much will it be?”

“Nothing, Jules.” The waiter replied, much to the other ones surprise. “My special treat for you. Good luck.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she shook his hands, much to secrecy, and walked out   
of the place. The train was ready again, and there were less passengers on her cart. 

The rest of the way was uneventful, with only one old lady complaining to an ash casket, who turned out to be her husband. Towards midnight, the vehicle stopped again, this time leaving all of its passengers. The new station was too dim to see, a lonely town behind it. 

Jules walked through the empty streets if the ghostlike place, observing the eye shape on most of the streetlights. Everything was covered in a thin sheet of dust, but the town was in perfect conditions. The sound of feet walking made her senses hitch, scrambling to hide to the side of a brick building. The footsteps came near, but no one had seen her. 

Following the individual was an easy task, for the path was dark and unnoticed. They both arrived to a grim looking metro station, and, as the man, or woman, walked inside, the volunteer noticed that the station, in fact, had been abandoned.

The mysterious subject walked through an endless amount of tunnels, reminding her of the ones V.F.D used in the city.

No, she told herself, this is nothing like home.

The tunnels were cruel and bare, walls crawling with insects and mice. Even with no signs, the man, or woman, knew their way quite well.

After walking down the endless tunnels, they came up to the entrance of a bright red door. The individual entered, and she caught a quick glimpse of the place before the door closed. 

Oddly, the room was elegantly furnished with rugs and armchairs, contrasting the crude tunnels. A fireplace burned brightly, it that didn’t get her attention.   
The most horrifying piece of the scene was the couple awaiting for the individual.   
Jules pressed her back to the wall as the door was shut, praying to god that they hadn’t noticed her. 

After all, The Man with a Beard but No Hair and Woman with Hair but No Bear where fearsome villains.


	5. An Ill Decorated Office

“Jacquelyn , do pass me the files on the Jones’ case.”

The message was followed by a nasty cough, then the voice again.

“Jacquelyn? The files please.”

The secretary stared at the door annoyingly, the file in her hands. The day had been rather frustrating but Mr. Poe insisted that she stayed for the afternoon.

With a deep breath, Jacquelyn Scieszka entered the office, putting on her best, charming smile. 

“So sorry for the lateness Mr. Poe. Here you go.”

The man took the files.

“Good, thank you. It is impressive how little amount of work for Mulctuary Money Management. It seems there had been very little amount of-“

He exploded into another fit of coughs. 

“Fires, Mr. Poe?” implied Jacquelyn raising an eyebrow.

“Orphans.” The banker said. “Now, even if there is not much to do, I still need to work. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course Mr. Poe.”

Jacquelyn rolled her eyes as she excited the office, sitting once again on the shabby desk.

Nothing interesting had occurred that week. Dr. Montgomery had called, but just to talk about a new type of strange venom, which was powerful enough to blur memories. Frank and Ernest had been annoyingly punctual every time she called the hotel, and, as any other person, she could not tell which one was which. 

Looking down at her agenda, she noticed the farewell dinner she had with Gustav and Jules. The adoptive Snicket sibling had been surprised by the invitation, but the three friends had a good time that evening. 

A faded picture in the notebook showed a similar setting, but with Dr. Montgomery and Beatrice Baudelaire with them. 

Will we ever meet like that again? She wondered. 

Jules had now been gone for more than a month. Communication was strictly prohibited, but 

Jacquelyn was sure something was wrong.  
The phone rang distantly, and it took her a couple of seconds to respond, acting in her best cheeky voice. 

“Good Afternoon, this is Mulctuary Money Management, how can I help you?”

“Jacquelyn.”

“Gustav?”

“Would you like to come to dinner tonight?”

The question was slightly out of place, but the secretary understood its meaning. 

“Of course. It would be lovely to get out of work for a while.”

“Excellent. Jaques will be joining us.”

“That’s fine as well.”

“Six o’clock. Please be punctual.”

“I’ll see you then.”

A smile of relief flooded her. The news would probably be an answer to Jules’s disappearance. 

She knocked on the office door. 

“Mr. Poe?”  
“What is it Jacquelyn?”

“Can I get out of work early? A friend invited me for dinner.”  
Mr. Poe reflected for a while.

“Fine. But it will cost you an extra weekend of paperwork.”

Internally groaning, Jacquelyn nodded eagerly.

Saying goodbye, the secretary wasted no time in collecting her handbag, and strided outside.

Waiting for her was the slightly handsome Herpetologist assistant, next to a yellow cab with a well   
known and noble driver.

“Ready to go?”

“If I wait to be ready, I will be waiting my whole life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More is to come after this. I have been planning on shipping Gustav with Jules, but not yet.  
> ;)


	6. Anxiety & Secrets

Over the years, psychologists, doctors, physicians, and a certain college student with many exams on the same day, have studied the different degrees of anxiety. 

There is a feeling of ‘restlessness’ which simply means ‘to be unable to stay relaxed, a lack of calmness’. If you are in the middle of a very long journey, towards the end of it you might find yourself restless.

“I am restless. I don't want to be in this vehicle anymore and find myself unable to be relaxed.”

Then there is distress, which means ‘to cause stress or anxiety’.

“I am in distress because the teacher is about to hand me my grades, and it is causing me anxiousness and stress.”

If the situation is severe, you may find yourself panicked or fearful, panic meaning ‘a sudden, overpowering feeling of fear’.

“My dog is missing, I failed a final exam, and my car is stuck in traffic on the way to my sister’s wedding. I feel panicked, with a sudden feeling of fear!”

Lastly, there is hysteria, but this adjective may be too specific and deep to describe random situations. Hysteria means ‘a behaviour exhibiting overwhelming and uncontrollable emotions, such as restlessness, anxiousness, stress, panic and/or fear.

This are the levels of anxiety, and many of them can be shown in daily life.

I, personally, have also researched the word and feeling of ‘guilt’.

Levels of guilt can vary, from the simple feeling of having eaten a candy that was the property of your friends, to my own feelings, when I left two of my siblings and a couple of friends thinking I had died a gruesome death without saying goodbye.

Guilt itself means ‘remorse or self-reproach caused by feeling that one is responsible for a wrong or offence’.

You, as a usual and ordinary citizen, may feel guilt in certain, day to day situations.

“I feel guilty because I copied my brothers homework.”

“I feel guilty for skipping a red lights in traffic.”

“I feel guilty for robbing that bank.”

...Maybe not the last one.

Either way, nearly everyone has felt guilt, either deeply or lightly, in their lives.

To conclude my message, this two feelings, fear and guilt, where the emotions that were currently consuming my brother. 

Dread and panic for our sisters fate, and guilt for not having protecting her.  
So I warn you, look away from this dreadful story, go read a better one. Do not feel guilty for not finishing it, for the next series of unfortunate events may and are even worse than those told before.  
\------

The Baudelaire Mansion had always been a place filled with life and books, inviting friendly volunteers to rest in the company of good people. 

When the three of them, a secretary, a movie director, and a taxi driver, arrived at the place, a beautiful woman, Beatrice, was waiting in the entrance. As a mannered host, she led them in, offered fresh parsley soda, and awaited for their comfort to be plentiful before starting the conversation. 

Bertrand Baudelaire joined them quickly, followed by Dewey Denouement.

Jacquelyn and Gustav greeted the librarian warmly. It was unusual, this word meaning ‘out of the ordinary, uncommon’, for the man to go out of the huge library in the sub basement of his hotel.

“Even if this reunion may be welcoming, specially after being reunited,” Bertrand started, pointing at Dewey, “Beatrice and I must apologise to the three of you.”

He turned to Jacquelyn, Gustav, and Dewey.

When they gave him quizzical looks, he held his hand up to explain.

“As you know, Jules was sent on a mission she personally volunteered for. I presume she told you what it was about.”

“Yes,” stated Dewey, “She mentioned retrieving the Cricket Pamphlet.”

Bertrand nodded.

“This, in fact, was partially a lie. The Cricket Pamphlet was safely destroyed, but she needed a red herring to distract you.”

\------  
A red herring is a false clue that diverts points of inquiry or investigation to a wrong direction. For example, if I, Lemony Snicket, told my mature neighbour i was going to the Hinterlands, it would be a red herring. If he is interviewed by the police, he would give them that certain information. While they were searching the vast, dry terrains, I would be comfortably resting in the city.   
\------

“Why?” Interfered Jacquelyn, “We would never give the information to anyone.”

Beatrice nodded and spoke for her husband.

“That is true, but she couldn't afford any of you going after her in case of emergency.”

The volunteers were slightly confused, but understood that their friend was not meaning any harm.

“Unfortunately, due to certain aspects of her mission. we find ourselves in need of help.”

Jaques, who had strangely sat quietly during the conversation, stood up and left the room, turning left on the main hall.

“Is there anything-”

Beatrice held up a hand at Gustav, ready to answer his many questions.

“The only ones who were aware of this mission, were Larry, Bertrand and me, and of course, Jules.   
Jacques distinguished the red herring, and questioned us about it. I'm afraid that, even if he does not show it, his anger towards the matter has not ceased.”

They all sipped on the parsley soda for a few quiet moments.

“What was Jules’s actual mision?” Dewey asked.

“Some of our enemies acquired a list of volunteers and their exact location. According to Larrys’ intelligence, the have not put it to use. Jules’s mission was to destroy that list and warn any volunteer that may be compromised.”

Another silent moment ruled, with the parsley soda, as they digested the information.

Gustav, again, was the first one to ask their dreaded question.  
“Then, if you explained the situations when it was supposed to be secret, what happened to the mission?”

Beatrice stared at the floor before responding.

“The mission was supposed to at least last for three weeks long. As you know, she has been gone for a month and a week. Juliane...” she paused, rephrasing the name, “...Jules has not sent any type of information via telegraph, and she is always very punctual.”

“How can we help you in this issue?”

It was Bertrand now who responded. 

“We need to reach her quietly, without rising any fuss. If she is in danger, elaborate a way to send her a message, and arrange a rescue.”

The group immediately started giving off suggestions and ideas. 

\-----  
When a group of well-read people gathers to come up with ways to solve and issue, a solution can arrive early. But not everyone can be extremely focused on getting there. My dear Beatrice, as always, noted the fact that Jacques had still not arrived back into the meeting. The fearless woman had a specific gift of knowing when people where in need of support, even if they didn't show.  
\-----

The Baudelaire swaggered towards the cozy library, where she had experienced many adventures inside the pages of dozens of books. As expected, the Snicket sibling was there, scamming a random book.

“You always had a good taste for mystery novels.”

The taxi driver looked up at her, with an inexpressible expression. 

“This is not your fault Jaques, she volunteered and knew the risks. You could have done nothing.”  
Jaques, a man of truth and virtue, knew the facts, but still felt the guilt and anxiousness heavy in his heart.

“I know that Beatrice, but she…”

The words got lost in his mouth, a knot snuffing out any sound. The woman simply enveloped him in a hug, just how he had done not so long ago at the death of his brother, and her beloved one.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> This is the first time I ever write anything on ASOUE, so I took a couple of lines from the series.  
> The idea for this work is that Juliane “Jules” Snicket is the adoptive sister of the three Snicket siblings. Pairing will be added as more chapter come.  
> Please add comments to ask any question!  
> ;)


End file.
